Never in a million years would I have imagined that my child would die however, he did. Trevor was murdered twenty-four years ago. What jolted me most was not that he was killed, but that he was dead. There was no heads up, one day he was living, the next he was dead.
Just shy of his first birthday he took his last breath. I was only twenty-eight years old the day I watched them cover my baby’s coffin with dirt. I am now fifty- three and have recently reached a crossroad.
My prayer is to help mother’s cope with a fate like mine. I envision a rehab-like environment called “GrieveHab”. A facility that will support mothers left to go on with the loss of their murdered child.
